Doing My Best
Chapter Three - Substitute for Love
As on every other night, dinner is
ready when the Dixons reached home. John is not hungry, for obvious reasons.
Broken-hearted, frightened, disgusted with himself, and remembering the rift in the locker
room with Steven, John is anything but hungry.
"John? Dinner's served!" his mother calls.
"I'm coming," he says with a dead tone in his voice.
"I still can't believe what that-what's his name again?-Carter boy announced
today!" Veronica Dixon started. "It must have taken a lot just to stand there
and say he's gay."
John looked at her in disbelief, not sure if she really meant what she had said. And he
was caught up in his own emotions of fear, courage, and sadness.
"I don't know, Vee. I agree with you, but I wouldn't feel comfortable as a parent to
hear that, though I would stand by my child if such a situation occurred. John," his
father continues, looking at his son, "did you know Steven for a long time?"
"I don't know," he answered absentmindedly, drowning in his own thoughts.
"How don't you know? He took pictures of you-and I'd still like to have some
prints-he says he stayed over last weekend, but then it was only for a book... Is there
anything...," then, being suddenly uncomfortable, "I mean, what did you think of
his speech?" His father didn't want any open confrontation, not being the time, place
or circumstances. Raymond Dixon was not a man easy to fool, John knew that. He'll talk to
his son in private, thinking that way he'll know what's going on.
Reaching for his last drop of energy, his last burst of concentration while holding back
tears and anger, John answers his father's question.
"I think he did what he had to do. I agree with his comment. In his situation, I can
imagine it was the only thing to do to keep him from going insane." His father
notices John's voice starting to get shaky. "I think he is really brave..."
John leapt to his feet and ran to his room, not being able to control his voice, tears,
emotions, and his body. "I have to tell them. Either that or I'm the one who'll go
insane! The ground is already wide open beneath my feet. What worse can happen? Guess it
could be alright with them, after what I just heard." He is still lost in his
thoughts, lying on his bed all curled up so nothing can possibly hurt him anymore. And
he's crying again, harder than ever. He chooses not to fight, for once, in the privacy of
his own room, but to be real and let go of months, of years of unexpressed feelings.
Raymond Dixon sensed that something was tormenting his son deeply, so he decided to take a
look in John's room to see how he was doing. Seeing him in his bed crying, he turns back,
deciding to return later.
A little after midnight, John opened his computer to write in his diary. Then, he thought,
he could get it all off his chest.
"What will I write? That I lost the person I love the most, the person with whom I
discovered love, my true one? I can't write that, for it's nice to love someone, but life
seems all marked out for me. I don't see any Steven in that life. Is it my life, though? I
could also write that I'm stark mad at Steven; he's the one who fucked the whole thing
with the article, that bloody article, and his speech. I didn't want to tell the truth,
not now. I didn't ask for celebrity that way! Again, I can't write that. Deep inside, I
know how proud he was of us, of the love he had for me, of our complicity. I know how he
loved me, and he loves me still, I hope. I love him for sure, only in private, far from
anyone's eyes. In a way... no, in every way, I am the stupid sod who fucked the whole
thing. Is our love dead, or badly injured? If the latter, I could try to fix it..."
"If I could turn back time, if I could find a way
I'd take back those words that hurt you, you'd stay
If I could reach the stars I'd give them all to you
Then you'd love, love me like you used to do..."
"What am I going to do now? Keep up like this; lying, being scared of what people
might suspect? Feeling worried, not sure about what I might feel towards another person? I
wasn't worried with Steven; it just felt natural, normal, to be with him, to hold him.
Those were the rare moments when I was happy, really, truly happy. I was not the Head Boy
anymore; I didn't have any official duty to perform. I wasn't John Dixon anymore. To hell
with decorum, status, expectations, and wealth. I was only John, the luckiest and happiest
boy on earth because Steven loved me." He was sobbing, crying a lot, while having
those thoughts. " He didn't love me because of my badge or my money or my famous
name; it was for me. For my fears, weaknesses, strengths (where are they right now?), my
nice, wavy locks of hair." This memory brought a smile to his face and made the tears
stop falling from his eyes. "He loved me for me! I guess I never considered that
someone could love me for me, the real me, the secret me. I always thought I had to be
someone else to have their love...like Steven said."
"Even with Christina, it had never been close to what it was with Steven. John Dixon
was the right guy for her, herself coming from an honourable family. Was I happy? No. John
Dixon was happy. No, not after tasting happiness on Steven's lips, in Steven's arms. But I
sure liked being seen around with the most beautiful girl in town. Everyone then could see
how cool I was. That's right, I was. I liked people to think I was happy, that we were
happy. Have I ever said something real, true, about me to Steven? At our first, awkward
meeting, I couldn't even say he pleased me, that I was "dodgy" too, like him. He
just told me right away, and I couldn't even say it to him, the only other person in this
whole world who could understand me. No need to dwell over it longer. I know I have to
make it right, whatever the results might be."
"I could also write why I'm scared as hell to admit that I'm gay, why I don't want
anybody to know, even though Jess and Kev know by now. I witnessed how Kev and Dave have
mistreated Steven. I don't want to go through that. I don't want to be called names. I
tried to hold back Kevin several times, but nobody would be there to hold him back if he's
bullying me. On the other hand, I'd be with Steven. Maybe the two of us could go through
those times. I mean, if we support each other, it could be all right. What if my parents
were to know? Mum and her precious committees, what would her guests and colleagues think
if they walked in on me and Steven? It could be alright, too. She's also my mother; she
could understand. Mums are suppose to understand, aren't they? Dad? I guess Oxford is out
of the question if I tell him. His tall, sporty-winner, Head-Boy-going-to-Oxford is
gay!"
"Back to me, I'll go insane! I know I'm gay; here I admit it. I'm gay, I'm gay, I'm
gay! Again, it's easier to say when no-one's around and I'm saying it silently to myself.
What can I do? Be miserable, marry a poor girl I'll never love, and die wealthy but having
led an empty, meaningless life? I guess that is exactly what was marked out for me. Or I
can be real! Maybe not in giving a dramatic speech like Steven, but I can go step by
step...don't have to face the world at once. I guess my parents are first on the list. I
want to be able to show Steven I love him. I want to feel those incredible emotions again,
the ones when I'm with Steven. How am I going to do that? I can't do it alone. Just look
how I'm doing since "that" day. Can I imagine myself with a boyfriend, though?
It sounds weird when said plain like that...but Steven! That sounds so much better. But
what's a boyfriend, if not a girlfriend but for people like Steven...and me. Somebody to
count on, to rely on; somebody to understand you, laugh with you, cry with you...Steven
was like that and so much more."
" I must make plans so I'll survive this catastrophe. Now I can imagine what Steven's
going through. Well, I will make things right for me, and I'll try to patch it up,
honestly, for what I've done to Steve. If Dixons have never been defeated before, maybe
then can I try to win-earn would be more appropriate-him back. At least I would have
tried..."
When John is about to start writing, another thought crosses his mind. "Why don't I
write to Steven? If I'm not to see him anymore, at least I should be honest with him, for
real, and explain-no, express-what I really feel."
Before going to bed-God it was late-Raymond Dixon passed again by John's bedroom to make
sure he was alright. How can he think he is alright? He saw his son almost collapse at the
table earlier. Looking in, he saw John sitting at his computer desk, writing something.
"John?" he whispered, not wishing to wake up Veronica.
"Dad!" John panicked for a second, but stopped at the sight of his dad.
"I'd like to talk with you if...if it's alright, of course."
"Sure, what's up?"
"It's about that Steven Carter." John's face turned white as a sheet and he knew
it, hoping his father wouldn't notice. "I realised you weren't feeling well earlier,
so I thought talking to you alone would be better."
"It's okay! Going great!"
"John, it's not really convincing..."
"Alright then, what do you want to know?" These last words sounded familiar. He
felt put up against a wall.
"I'm rather confused. You know I don't like to put my nose in your business, but I'd
like to have that whole story sorted out-your side of the story."
"What story?" John knew perfectly well that he couldn't escape that one, no
matter how good a runner he was.
"Well, the pictures, the weekend, the book, the speech...Steven Carter seemed to look
at someone during his speech. I was really under the impression it was you. And his father
was quite shocked when he heard about the book..."
John had the scenes in his head, tearing him apart, making him remember what a fool he
was. Those images were so present...and so were the feelings attached to them, still not
easier to ignore or to deal with.
"For the pictures," John started, "yes, he took them. At the time, he was
only on the school magazine staff and he had a camera. So he took the pictures."
"And?" Raymond Dixon softly added.
"And... and as for the weekend, he did stay over." That was it. He started to
sob again. "I'm sorry Dad, so sorry... I had to!"
"Had to what?"
"Had to hide it..."
"Why? I still don't understand." He knew his son had to say it, not him.
"I was, and still am, so scared, afraid... afraid of being me."
"And who is that 'me'?" Raymond Dixon started to get confused a little, knowing,
but not sure of knowing what.
"I'm, I'm... I'm gay!" John mumbled between tears and spasms.
"Oh! Come here; come here, son. It's going to be alright. Shhhh..."
It felt strange to Raymond Dixon to comfort his son, not being comfortable himself with
the situation. Of course he'd stand by him, as he had said earlier, but it would require
time and an effort on his part.
"He stayed over the weekend" John said. "But I didn't want anybody to know.
I was scared that I'd lose everything if people knew. Oxford, great plans, friends,
and..." hesitating, "parents."
"Don't be silly!" his father retorted. "I never want you to say that again!
You're my son, whatever happens; good or bad, sick or healthy, g...," he just can't
pronounce the word, "or whatever."
"As I was saying, losing...anyway. The thing is, now I don't know. I just said to you
I'm gay, but I'm afraid. I'm afraid I'll never see Steven again."
"So you were involved in a way, then?" How strange this sounded for Raymond
Dixon.
John was quite uneasy with the question, but he was also willing to answer. "No more
lies," he thought.
"Yes, yes. But I hurt him today...and the worst has happened-not what I expected,
Oxford, friends and all-I lost Steven. For good, I'm afraid."
"One thing's sure; the sooner you clear that up, the better it will be. I'll let you
go to bed. You probably need a good night of sleep. And so do I."
"Yes, Dad. Can I ask a favour?"
"Depends on what it is."
"Can you talk to Mum for me, please? I'd rather answer questions than explain."
"If it will help, I guess I can. But I think she will understand..."
"Please," John cuts in, "can you?"
"Okay, okay. Good night, now!"
"Thanks, Dad!" John then returned to his computer to finish the letter to
Steven. He wants to mail it a soon as possible.
Dear (yes, dear) Steven,
I'm writing to you because I want you to know how I'm feeling. Hoping you still care...
I'm miserable, caught up between fear and love, expectations and real life, me and the
John the others know, comfort and truth.
After you left on Prize Day, Jessica came by and... well, she knew. I panicked at first,
but didn't have the energy to run away. She talked to me, so did I; I needed to speak to
somebody before I'd turn insane! I told her I was gay, and the ground didn't open beneath
my feet... it was already open; you opened it when you left.
And Kevin knows, too. He bumped into me and, by then, I didn't much care what could
happen. He asked me if I was about to kiss you and... I told him the truth. And tonight,
my Dad asked me so many questions and... that's that. I am now "out", like you.
But you are out, out of my life.
As I said earlier on the bench, I'm really sorry, so sorry, for what I've done to you. And
yes, you're the person I love the most, and still love the most. I feel good by your side;
real, alive, simply alive. I know I fucked up everything, the whole thing. I've hurt you.
But I've got to ask: Is there any chance I could see you again? To talk this over? I've
got many more things to say to you.
"Be happy" you said to me before leaving. I can't be happy without you. I
realised it after a couple of hours, days too late, maybe. I now understand what you meant
by "being proud of us". Today was a big day for me, too. I've come a long way
since we first met. I'd like to have the opportunity to show it to you. Even if we don't
get back together, at least you could be proud of what you did, of how you affected me, of
what you mean to me after doing what I did.
Sincerely, with love,
John
"Nobody's perfect, nobody's perfect
I was dishonest, I will do my best..."
The next morning, Veronica Dixon woke up early to fix a special breakfast. Her husband had
told her about John and, though she was glad to know, she didn't understand why John
hadn't come directly to her. There are more important things, she thinks. She'll fix
breakfast and bring it to John's room. Then she'll be able to talk with him. Slightly past
ten, she knocks on John's door.
"Yes?" John answers, still half asleep.
"It's me."
"Come in."
She is surprised to see John's face, looking like he hadn't slept at all. It doesn't take
her too long to figure out why.
"Thought I'd make breakfast for you this morning. I think we have to talk, don't
we?"
"Dad told you?"
"Yes. Don't worry, it's okay. We'll, umm, I'll need some time to adjust myself, but
it's going to be alright. I don't understand everything, but we'll have the chance to talk
about it later on. I'll ask you something right now, though. Why didn't you come to me
directly?" You could see that Veronica Dixon was hurt.
"I don't know. I guess I was afraid to disappoint you... Now I realise it was a silly
thought, but..."
"Disappoint me? I can't say I expected it, but I'd prefer to see you happy than
miserable. And I guess the day has come when, not being a baby anymore, I can't always
decide for you."
"But you had great plans..."
"Yes, you're right. Even though those plans will change, obviously, let me be the one
who has to adjust to your plans rather than you following plans I made out for you."
Of course she was a bit disappointed, but her son's happiness counted much more at the
moment.
"Did Dad tell you about Steven?"
That question brought Veronica Dixon back to reality. John's being gay was one thing, but
having a boyfriend was far from being accepted right away!
"Yes. Were you the one he was looking at during his speech?"
He nods, still not sure of the reaction.
Trying to demonstrate her willingness to support her son, Veronica walks over her social
persona to act like the mother she is, caring and understanding, or trying to be so.
"What if we were to invite him over sometime-if you agree, of course-then we could
get to know him, too?"
"I don't know. I still have things to sort out with him first. Anyway, it's a good
idea. Thanks, Mum." John was a bit surprised, shocked by the suggestion. Not
everybody can be invited to dinner at the Dixon's residence.
"Now eat. And, please, next time can you come to us if there is anything bothering
you?"
"I will try, yes."
"Eat, and I'll catch you later. There is a meeting I have to attend." And she
kisses him gently on the forehead. Now, he'll mail the letter and wait for a sign...
to be continued...
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